Of Moonlit Beaches
by Maeggy
Summary: One thinks they're spending time alone in a deserted beach house, the other is well aware that they will have a housemate. Will love blossom for these two as they meet and interact? Full summary inside. Mark CallowayOC. Ch. 4 up!
1. Prologue

Full Summary: Elizabeth has been invited to spend the winter months at her friend's beach to unwind after tradegy filled year. Hoping to spend those months in blessed quiet, her dreams of peace are dashed when another is invited to spend time in the same house. Mark Calloway, fresh from his divorce, asked his beloved friends for the use of their beach house, already knowing that another will be sharing the space with him. As they meet and interact will something blossom between these two scarred people? 

Rating: PG-13 (for now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Elizabeth and Rachel, other than that everything is owned by one Vince McMahon.

**Prologue**

Elizabeth sat staring off into space as her best friend rattled on and on about what to do and what not to do while staying at her summer home. They had gone over this before, twice in fact, but Rachel wanted to make sure that all the pertinent information was drilled into her grief induced mind. "...and remember to- Lizzie?...Liz?...Elizabeth!" the last was shouted, startling Elizabeth out of her reverie. Rachel looked over at her friend, who minutes before had been staring listlessly out the window. She hated to see her friend so down, but she knew that nothing she said, or did, would help her out of it. She only hoped that Elizabeth would find some solace out of her time spent in near solitude.

"Sorry," Elizabeth apologized quietly, "it's just that you've already told me all this."

Rachel sighed, truly feeling for her friend. "I know, but I -"

Forcing a smile, Elizabeth interrupted her friend before she could start in again about the benefits of her time away from the world. "I'll have to go food shopping when I get there, the heat has already been turned on, don't light a fire in the fireplace because the chimney hasn't been cleaned, don't leave the stove on if I'm not cooking, there are extra blankets in the closet if I get too cold..." Elizabeth trailed off after ticking each of the instructions off on her fingers. "I don't think I'm forgetting anything major. You can rest assured, I won't burn your precious house down."

"It's not the house I worry about, it's you..."

"I know, but I'll be fine. I've made it this far, haven't I?" Elizabeth asked, looking down, not wanting her friend to know just how not fine she really was. It was true that she had made it through the past two months without any battle scars, but the scars she did have weren't of a visible nature. She just wanted to get away for a while to work things out on her own, and when she brought that up in passing to Rachel she had been quick with an answer. She was now double and triple checking, at Rachels insistence, to make sure she had everything she'd need for the next three months that she would spend in Mashpee, Massachusetts, a lovely and quaint town on the coast of Cape Cod. It was a beautiful setting with the ocean and beach as her backyard. But the truly wonderful thing was that the beach, and neighboring houses, would be practically deserted, as the Cape was noticably quiet during the colder months. In truth, it did not take much to convince Rachel's husband to let Elizabeth have use of the house, only a well cooked meal and, for dessert, some strategically placed chocolate Redi Whip, though Elizabeth didn't need to know the details of it.

Shaking her head of her wayward thoughts involving said Redi Whip, Rachel went over to her saddened friend and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "I know," she smiled, "you'll just have to forgive my mother hen complex."

Gently stepping back out of the hug, Elizabeth made her way to the stairs, "But I have to go and make sure I didn't forget anything ...again." And with that, she was gone up the steps.

Rachel went and sat on the couch thinking of how Elizabeth would spend the coming weeks and making bets with herself as to how long it would be before Elizabeth came running back once she found out about her soon-to-be housemate. Rachel and her husband had both agreed that neither one of them would be telling Elizabeth that she would not, in fact, have the house to herself. They both knew that if she did know the truth she never would have taken their offer and would have holed herself away in a motel room somewhere. Something neither of them wanted to see.

Rachel Cena sighed and put her head in her hands, desperately hoping that Elizabeth wouldn't it against them that she had been lied to and that this wouldn't come back to bite them in the ass.

-  
Mark Calloway let out a relieved breath of air as he packed the last of his clothing into his suitcase before he looked around his bedroom to make sure that he did not forget anything. He sighed as he saw that his once filled master bedroom now looking depressingly empty. It had been four months since his divorce from Sara and he still got a pang of lonliness when he saw the empty spaces on the dresser that had one contained her framed pictures and her antique jewelry box, or the nearly empty closet that had once housed her very large collection of designer clothes. Shaking his head of his less than happy thoughts, he once again reassured himself that this vacation would bring about the peace that would so desperately need. These thoughts however were interrupted, not by hinmself, but by the knock on his bedroom door. Turning around he saw his good friend John Cena with a knowing look on his face. "You just about ready?" The WWE Champion asked, looking around the room for the pieces of luggage that had yet to be brought down.

Nodding, he indicated to the side of the bed that was hiding the bags from view. "Over here. I was just about to come down anyway."

"Sure you were." John smiled slightly, but quickly continued on the Deadman could break in with some kind of scathing comment. Mark may have been relatively calm outside of the ring, but in the months following his rather messy divorce, the Phenom had been taking to sarcastic remarks and biting comments, which given the circumstances were very understandable. "At this rate Lizzie will be all unpacked before we're even halfway there."

Mark frowned at the mention of the Cena's good friend. He was well aware that he would be spending the next two months or so in her company, but he wasn't entirely sure what he thought of that. He was aware she was going through a rough patch in her life, the details of which had been withheld, and John had been thoroughly reassuring in the fact that she wouldn't mind having someone join her. But even so, he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about it. "And you're sure she doesn't mind my staying with her?" he asked for the umpteenth time.

John hesitated for a few seconds before answering. "Oh yeah, not a problem. She's looking forward to it in fact," he finally said, careful not to let the lie show on his face. He had previously agreed with his wife that Mark should at least be forewarned about Lizzie staying in the same house with him, but keeping Mark's presence a secret from her. The couple knew that keeping the information from the Phenom would have been a very bad idea, neither one wanting the wrath of the Deadman to fall on their heads. John just hoped that he wouldn't been too homicidial when he found out that Lizzie had been completely kept in the dark regarding Mark's presence.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! This is my first WWE related fic, so please, don't be too harsh. But even so, I want you to please review and tell me what you think. Feel free to be as honest as you want. I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes as it is currently 1:55 am and the idea for this story randomly hit me a few hours after watching tonights Raw. That, and I don't have a beta, so I don't catchall of my mistakes. With that said, I hope you enjoyed it and...Reveiw please. :o)**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Elizabeth Johnson and Rachel Cena, that's it. **

**Chapter One**

"Now, I'll call as soon as we get to the next city to check in on you," Rachel said as she put the last of Elizabeth's bags in the entryway. Straightening up, she looked over at the younger girl who leaning on the banister and looking up the stairs. "When you get to the top, take a left and it's the door all the way at the end," she added before Elizabeth could ask.

Turning around, she glanced back at Rachel. "Thanks again for this, I really appreciate it."

Rachel smiled in response and moved in for one last hug, holding her close. "You call me if you need anything, okay?" she said against Elizabeth's cheek.

Nodding slightly in response, Elizabeth stepped back. "You'd better go, or else you'll miss your flight." She picked up one of her bags and prepared to go upstairs, knowing that she needed to take the initiative in order to get Rachel to leave, otherwise she wouldn't leave at all, using the littlest thing as an excuse to stay. Elizabeth loved her best friend, but sometimes she felt smothered by Rachel's kindness. Putting her foot on the first step, she turned around and said, "Well, go on, get. Leave before John calls wondering if I stuffed you in a closet somewhere."

Rachel knew she was only joking, but John really would call if Rachel was delayed any longer. She turned around and opened the door, called behind her, "Have a good vacation. I'll call you when I get to the hotel. Promise." And then she was gone, telling herself that she didn't have anything to worry about and that Elizabeth could take care of herself. She looked at the clock on the dashboard and took note of the time, 11:23 a.m. Mark would be arriving in the next half hour. And once again Rachel found herself hoping that she made the right decision when she purposelly withheld the information from her (hopefully) understanding friend.

* * *

After making sure that Rachel wouldn't be making another appearance, she adjusted the bag in her hand and made her way up the steps. She followed the directions she had been given, she went towards the door at the end of the hall and entered the master bedroom. Everytime she had seen this room, she had told Rachel how much she loved it, as it had always had a calming effect on her. 

The walls were painted a lovely pale green, the lace curtains on the windows matched wonderfully in their white simplicity. All the furniture, save a wicker chair in the corner, were made of smooth rosewood. The usual thin blanket had been traded out for the thick, warm down andwere done in a gorgeous sea green, with matching sheets and pillow cases. The floors were polished hardwood with a green and blue shag rug placed at the side of the bed. All-in-all it was Elizabeth's favorite room in the house, excluding the kitchen. She lightly placed the bag on the bed and made her way into the spacious bathroom. Where the bedroom had been decorated in matching green's, the bathroom equally matched, but with shades of blue. Sitting proudly towards the back of the bathroom was a large jacuzzi, one in which Elizabeth planned to spend much time in, soaking up the warm water and jet vibrations. As much as she wanted to spend and hour or so in the calming waters, she wanted to save her first venture into it for when she was had completed all her unpacking, a self-reward, if you will. So, she turned her attention to shower, taking note of the towels hanging right outside its glass door.

Shucking her shoes, Elizabeth stripped herself of her jeans and sweater, folding them neatly and placing them on the counter, then took care of her socks. Straightening back up, she looked at herself in the mirror, clad only in her undergarments. She frowned slightly as she realized that she had lost a lot of weight in the past months. Not having been fat to begin with, she estimated that she was probably down somewhere around one hundred and ten pounds. Shrugging her shoulders, she promised herself that she would try and eat more, even though her appetite hadn't been up to par lately. Shaking her head of her thoughts she quickly removed her remaining clothing, stepped into the shower and turned it on. The water didn't take long to turn from bone chillingly cold to pleasant warmth, leaning her head back she allowed the water to cascade over her. Opening her eyes, she looked around for some form of shampoo when she remembered she left her toletries downstairs in one of her bags, but she spotted a bottle of Rachel's strawberry scented two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. She quickly finished her shower and opened the door to the steam filled bathroom.

Taking a dark blue terrycloth towel from rack to her left, she wrapped in securely around herself leaving her long brown hair drip water down her back. She ignored the growing puddle of water and made her way back into the bedroom to root through her suitcase for something comfortable to wear. Pulling out a pair of pink sweatpants and a black long sleeved shirt, she started looking in the bottom of her bag for a pair of underwear and a brag. After five minutes of looking she realized that she had packed them all in with her jeans and t-shirts, which, she sighed, were stillin a bag downstairs. Elizabeth placed the pants and shirt at the end of the bed, made sure the towel wasn't going to fall off and went downstairs, glad that she had the whole house to herself.

* * *

Mark pulled his rented Dodge Durango into the driveway of the Cena's summer home, glad that he was about to spend the coming months in relative solitude. In actuality, he was kind of glad that he wouldn't be spending the time completely alone, he just hoped that the two of them would get along. He had only met Elizabeth Johnson once and it had been for a very brief period of time. From what he gleaned of that short meeting the girl was quiet and reserved, and also very pretty. 

After putting the car in park and turning off the ignition, he got out and went around to the back to retreive his bags. Once he had then all, he shut the door and locked the car. He had spoken to John earlier and was informed that since Rachel was bringing Elizabeth, that she would make sure the door was unlocked for him and an extra key would be waiting in the kitchen for him. So, he opened the door and somehow manuevered himself inside and set his bags down next to, what he assumed, were Elizabeths bags.

He quietly shut the door and stood in the entryway listening for any signs of the younger girl and was rewarded with the sounds of quick footsteps, sounding like they were coming from upstairs and moving closer. Mark looked up at the top of the stairs and saw her coming down the stairs swiftly, wearing nothing but a blue towel and her long wet hair streaming behind her. She looked to be so intent on the stairs in front of her that she hadn't yet looked and seen him. So, when she neared the bottom steps, he let out a loud and clear, "Hello."

What he didn't count on was the startled intake of breath; and he certainly didn't expect her to slip and stumble down the remaining stairs after she looked up and spotted him.

* * *

**Authors Note: Hey everyone, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Please review. I don't care what you say: Is it good? It is bad? Do you absolutely hate it? How's the weather? Do you like chocolate? See, anything really. Those lovely little review alerts really make my day. And as you can see I'm not above begging. Hopefully because I wrote this before 2 a.m that is came out better than the previous chapter. :o)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two  
**

"Do you think we just made a very big mistake?" John Cena asked his wife as they met in the airport after accomplishing their separate tasks.

"Well..." Rachel hesitated, "I think that it'll be...interesting."

"Interesting? That is certainly one way to put it. Either way, it's too late now. They're both there and all we have to do is wait for that phone call from Lizzie."

Rachel sighed. "She's going to kill me, isn't she? I'm about to lose one of my best friends."

"Hey," John said softly as he reached over and took one of her hands in his, gently rubbing his thumb along the back. "You won't lose her. She'll probably be a little miffed at us, but nothing more than that."_ I hope_, John added to himself.

"God, I hope you're right. Lizzie doesn't need this right now. All she wanted was a nice quiet getaway, and what do we do? Stash her in a house with a man she only met once. A man, might I add, that has not had the greatest attitude lately. He's going to chew her up and spit her out." Rachel gripped the handle of her carry on tighter as her mind went over all the possible outcomes of the situation. Why all those scenarios decided to come to the forefront now, she had no idea. But even so, they probably wouldn't have stopped the scheming couple.

"Baby, listen to me," he started, wanting to put a stop to the rant that his wife was rapidly moving towards. "Mark wouldn't do that. He knows that she's going through something right now. He is not going to go out of his way to make her life miserable. He has had time to work through the fact that he is going to have company at the house. Yes, I'll admit he's been more..._moody _lately and he's had reason to. But I can't imagine him going after a defenseless woman, let alone Lizzie. Who knows?" he shrugged, "they just might be good for each other."

"John, you are not doing what I think you're doing, are you?" Rachel asked, eyebrow raised in question.

"If you think I'm looking out for the welfare of our good friends, then yes. That's what I'm doing."

"Uh huh, sure," was all she said in response. They both knew what exactly Rachel meant, but they let it go as they settled in to wait for their flight to be called.

Then, after a few minutes, "John, you do know that Mark is going to be less than happy with you for lying to him, right?"

John blanched at the thought and he cleared his throat before responding, "It won't be that bad, he'll understand."

"Yeah, he'll understand that you flat out lied to him about Elizabeth knowing he was going to be there. And you lied to him about the fact that she wouldn't care. When you _know _that she would have been very against the idea had she even known about it in the first place."

"It, uh, it won't be that bad."

Rachel patted his knee, "Sure, baby, whatever makes you feel better."

* * *

"Shit," Mark cursed as she saw the girl falling forward. He knew he was too far away to catch her, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to try anyway.

Elizabeth had lost her footing when she heard an unexpected voice, causing her to take a tumble. She landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, all limbs and towel. She remembered at the last second to clutch the towel to her chest to keep it from completely falling off. Once stationary on the floor, she looked up, dazed, head smarting from where it smacked onto the hard surface.

"Ow," she whimpered, completely forgetting for a second about the other person in the room.

Mark brought himself up short, standing before who he assumed was Elizabeth. As it was, she was sprawled on the floor, the blue towel riding dangerously up on her leg, the split in the material showing off an impression amount of skin, and if it weren't for her hand, he had no doubt that the towel would have fallen completely off.

He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Shaking his head of his less than gentlemanly thoughts, he took in the fact that her free hand was clutching at her head, her eyes closed in pain, jaw clenched. He had heard the very audible crack from where her skull met the floor, and he wasn't envying the headache he knew that she would develop.

He crouched down so that he was more on her level and looked her over for any other possible injuries...At least that's what he told himself. "Are you okay?" his deep voice rumbled out.

Her eyes snapped open at the foreign voice and she tried to get her muddled mind around the occurrences of the past few minutes.

Hitting head on floor.

Falling down the stairs.

Strange man in the house.

Forgetting underwear in suitcase.

Wait. Back up. Strange man in the house?

Elizabeth's eyes shot to the man in question and he was a lot closer than she originally thought. Her heart sped up and her eyes widened in fear. Sitting up far too quickly for her aching head, she backed up until her back in the bottom step. The curled her legs under herself and tried to stand up, only to discover that her legs weren't strong enough to support her and she stumbled forward.

Mark watched the look of panic cross her face as she backed away from him. He didn't move, not wanting to be the cause of anymore fear on her part. The fact that she feared him in the first place was off putting than he wanted to think about right at the moment. But the moment he saw her start forward, he sprang from his crouching position and wrapped his arms around her to stop her from meeting the floor once more.

Scrunching her eyes, waiting for impact, but it never came. Opening her eyes cautiously and saw the floor securely under her. When she fully came to the realization that she was still in an upright position she saw that she was holding onto the arm around her waist. The heavily muscled arm from what she could tell. Trailing her eyes from the arm to the shoulder, she hesitantly brought it up to the face, to which the first thing she noticed were the beautiful green eyes. Then she realized that said green eyes belonged to a face that she thought was barely familiar.

She shook herself from her thoughts and tried to step out of his embrace, only to have him tighten his arms around her. Letting panic cloud her mind she started to struggle in earnest, desperate to be free.

"Hey, calm down," he said to her, trying to still her movement. "You do that anymore and that towel won't stand a chance. Not, you know, that I'd complain, but something tells me you wouldn't like it very much," he tried to reason with her.

Upon hearing his words she immediately stilled and glanced down at her towel clad form and was at once embarrassed at her less than presentable attire. Her face flushed as she addressed him, eyes firmly on the floor, mostly because she was still trying to deal with the dizziness that her abrupt movements had caused. "Could you please let me go?"

Her voice was quiet and he had to strain to hear her and when he did, he slowly withdrew his arms, not wanting to startle her, and clearly not for the reason that his hands seemed to very much like their current position on her person.

Once he let completely go, she reached for the banister and got a firm grip on it, just in case her legs decided no to participate again.

Holding the towel closer to her body she addressed the man before her and tried to keep the fear in her voice to a minimum. "Who are you and what are you doing here? This is private property and I'll call the pol-"

Putting up his hand, Mark interrupted her. "There's no need for that, darlin'. I'm Mark remember, I'm staying with you for the next two months."

Saying that Elizabeth was confused would be a great understatement. Mark? Staying with her? Clearly this man was insane and if she could just get to the phone she could call 911 then she would be okay. But that would mean two things: she'd have to get around him first, and that clearly did not seem very possible as he was _huge_, probably more than foot taller than her measly 5 foot 3 inch frame and very big and muscly. It would not take much to overpower her and that was one thing that she was very much afraid of. It was hard enough to control her trembling at the moment and just the thought of going again a giant such as he did not fill her heart with confidence. The other problem she saw in her plan was the fact that she did not have any idea where a phone was located anyway, and her cell phone was already upstairs.

Clearing her throat, she tried to enthuse as much confidence in her voice as she possibly could. "Look, sir, I assure you that I don't know what you're talking about. But if you don't leave immediately I will call the police." She was immensely proud that her voice didn't waver once and she was glad her voice held the confidence that she otherwise lacked.

She was petrified that she was going to upset him and she did not even want to think about what would happen if he got mad. The thought was enough to make her shiver. What was he going to do? What he going to kill her? Tie her up and torture her? Would he...?

She was brought out of her morbid thoughts when she heard him speaking.

"You're Elizabeth, right?" he asked her, voice uncertain. How did she not know he was coming? He had been assured by John that she knew. But, as he looked at her he saw the genuine confusion on her face. Confusion that was mixing heavily with fear. It was clear to him now that she honestly thought he was a burglar or something far worse. He had to dissolve her fear as quickly as he could. A hysterical female was definitely something that he wasn't looking forward to.

Hesitantly she nodded her head. _How does he know my name? Oh God, he's a stalker..._

"You're Rachel's friend," it wasn't a question. "Look, I don't know how you forgot, but John told me that I could stay here too. They told me that you knew...You did know, right?" He had a sneaking suspicion about what her answer was going to be, and he wasn't going to be happy about it.

"You're staying here too...? But, _I'm _staying here," she said to herself, trying to make sense of the situation. She looked up at the man, Mark, and responded, "No, they didn't tell me. So, you're not hear to kill me then?"

He laughed. A deep, rich laugh that made her shiver, and not in a bad way. "Oh, that's a good one," he managed. After seeing the look on her face he sobered quickly. "Of course I'm not hear to kill you. Just to keep you company for a bit, I guess."

"Oh."

Mark then thought about what she just told him. She didn't know that she was going to have a house guest. Oh, he was going to kill John the next time he saw the Champ. Slowly and painfully. If John thought he was bad over the last few weeks, it would be nothing compared to the hell he was going to unleash on the younger man. Rachel was going to have to bury her husband in a closed casket.

"Darlin', I think it'd be a very good idea if you went up and changed before we finished the rest of this conversation." As much as he was enjoying the visual feast in front of him, in which he was mentally hoping that the towel would slip a little bit more (hey, he was a red blooded male), he knew that she had yet to realize that she was still standing in front of him barely clothed. "And while you do that I'll go see if I can find any ice for your head. You're going to have a pretty bad bump from that fall you took."

Elizabeth looked down at herself and all the embarrassment that had fled her in favor of fear came rushing back, plus some. "That's, um, a really good idea. I just, uh...need to get to my bag," she motioned behind him to wear her suitcase was still sitting.

He looked behind him and saw her bags and smirked. Keeping where he was, he looked bad at her, "Well, far be it for me to stop you."

Rachel looked uneasy as she edged around him, wishing the whole time that he would move. Quickly, she rummaged through her stuff until she decided to just bring the whole thing on up, so she closed the zipper and ascended the stairs, careful to keep her footing.

Mark watch as she made her hasty retreat before he went to find the kitchen and that ice. He wasn't lying when he said she was going to have a bump. She hit the floor too hard for there not to be some kind of damage, so he figured he should also try to find some Aspirin of something to ease the monster headache that she was going to have in only a matter of time.

Plus, he wanted privacy for the phone call that he was about to make.

Hell hath no fury like an Undertaker lied to.

* * *

**A/N: **I am SO SORRY for how long it has taken me to update. I sincerely apologize to you all. I do promise to try and be a lot more timely in my updates. You can blame an excessive amount of school work and some writers block for the delay. But, I'm good now. In regards to the writer's block at least. And you all can thank **cenafan23 **for me getting my butt in gear. 

Please, even though you all probably hate me, review and let me know what you think of the story. I'm very self-conscious about this fic. I don't care what you say in your reviews, all comments are welcome.

And a little preveiw for the next chapter: There is a **phone call**, a **breakdown **and a **flashback**.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothin' except Rachel, Elizabeth and the plot. **

**Chapter Three  
**

"Just what the hell were you thinking, boy?" Mark hissed into the receiver, trying to keep his voice down so as not to clue Elizabeth in to the phone call that he was currently making.

"I thought I was doing you a favor," John calmly answered back.

Mark sputtered. A favor? What kind of favor was it for him to startle a young woman and nearly give her a heart attack? Was it a favor to be lied to by his, supposed, friend? What is a favor-

"Yo, Mark? Still there? Look, I understand you're pissed as all hell at me, but I'd much rather you just yell at me than give me this freakin' silent treatment."

John's words brought Mark out of his line of silent questioning. Taking a deep breath, he reigned in his anger, not wanting to get into a shouting match over the phone, if for no other reason than that he didn't want to startle the girl upstairs anymore.

"You _wish_ I wasn't still here," he growled. "You lied to me, Cena. Not that smartest thing you've ever done in your life. I fail to see how that is a favor."

The younger man paused for a moment, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, and so far he was coming up with nothing. Now that he was face-to-face (phone-to-face?) with his volatile friend all his ready made excuses just flew out of his head. "Well, you see, Rachel..."

"Oh no you don't. You are not going to try and blame your wife for your screw up. That girl has more sense in her head than to even _try_ to lie to me. Even though it is glaringly obvious that she lied to her friend." He couldn't believe John, trying to defect some of the blame to his wife, when granted she probably did have something to do with it, but he wasn't about to yell at her about it. Nope, that honor was strictly for her husband. Her husband who should have the balls to just take the blame and run. And it wasn't even that _he_ was lied to, though that vexed him to no end, but it was the fact that Elizabeth seemed to be on the receiving end of most of it. Mark had been told that _she _knew he was coming. That _she _didn't have a problem with it. And s_he _had been told that she would be alone. He still couldn't get the look on her face out of his mind when she first saw him and thought him to be a burglar or something far worse.

She had been beyond terrified, and even he could tell that there was more to the story than him being an unexpected guest in the house. That kind of fear had been built upon. But, he wouldn't press. At least, not yet. Not until his curiosity started eating away at him until he had no choice, in his mind, and he had to pick and pry. He was a very curious man by nature, always needing to be in control of any situation he found himself in. That was one partly why he was ticked he had been lied to. It put him off his game, and he didn't like it at all.

Surely John would have known this by now. Unless...unless he had done it _to_ throw him off. Mark shrugged to himself, putting those thoughts to the back of his mind to get himself to the conversation at hand.

"Look, man," John sighed, "I'm sorry I lied to you. But we thought that it would be best. In hindsight...probably wasn't the smarted move I could have made. What's done is done. Move on. Enjoy the time you guys have at the house. Seriously, when was the last time you actually had a vacation?"

"Oh, no. We are not turning this around on me. I'm pissed at you and, right at this moment, I plan on staying that way." Then, he continued before John could throw his two cents in, "You know, I really should just grab my bags and leave right now." Mark stopped, drawing out as much as he could from the effect from his words. From what he could understand of Cena's motive, him leaving the summer house would be the last thing he wanted. Finally, after what seemed to be a good length of the (_Good, let the kid sweat it out,_ he thought) he continued on, "But, I won't. Thanks to you I have a girl upstairs who is developing a lovely bump on the back of her head and a pretty nasty headache too."

John was shocked. _What the hell_? Last he had heard, Elizabeth had been dropped off at the house safe and sound. A little depressed, sure, but that was nothing new. "What the fuck did you do?" John fairly yelled.

He too was trying to keep his voice down, but he was doing it so that he didn't interrupt the phone call his wife had gotten only a few minutes after Mark called him. It didn't take a genius to guess who was on the phone. Speaking of his wife, he glanced over and say that was fully involved in her conversation. He saw that she looked sad, but not angry. That didn't make sense. If Elizabeth was hurt, Rachel wouldn't hesitate to show her anger (which was something he always tried never to rouse). Unless she was keeping calm for Elizabeth. He shrugged to himself, he'd ask her about it after he got off the phone with Mark, because at the moment he was angry enough for the both of them. So much for Mark not taking his anger out on a defenseless woman.

Wait, that didn't make sense. Mark didn't hit women. At all. There had to be something else, another, completely plausible explanation. And explanation that he was currently in the middle of. An explanation that John completely zoned out for, too intent on his own thoughts.

"...so I'm getting her ice and some kind of pain killers. Speaking of, where the hell do you keep your Aspirin."

"Bathroom next to the kitchen, top shelf of the cabinet," John answered absently, frantically trying to replay the conversation, hoping that some of it sunk it.

No luck.

He'd definitely have to ask Rachel about it. There was no way he was about to ask Mark to repeat it.

* * *

"How could you do this, Rachel?" she sniffed into the phone, using her all to keep her tears at bay.

"Oh, honey," Rachel sighed, "I'm sorry. I really didn't think it'd be that big of a deal."

"You..._lied_ to me," Elizabeth choked out, finding that holding her emotions in was harder than she thought at the moment. That and it was adding to the headache that was currently building in her skull. Putting her head in her hands, she continued on, "Why would you do that? I just wanted to be alone. Why couldn't you comprehend that?"

Rachel rested her head in her hand, unknowingly mimicking her best friend. She was having a serious time trying not to feel guilty. She realized that she shouldn't have manipulated her friend like that. God, she was an idiot. After all that poor girl just went through, to be lied to by the one person who stuck by her...she couldn't begin to imagine the betray Elizabeth was feeling right now. Maybe she should just go back there and take her home. Or something. "We just wanted you to have fun, Lizzie. Honestly. I swear to you we had the best of intentions at heart. We love you. You're our Lizzie, we'd never do anything to hurt you."

"But you did!" Then, "We? Oh, Rachel, don't tell me John was involved in this too. But of course he would have to. Mark's his friend after all. All you...you..._schemers_," not the best word she could think of, but it was the best she could do, "have to stick together." She took in a deep, shuddering breath, ignoring the first, of many, tears that slid down her cheek.

"We didn't scheme. Just kinda figured that you two would have fun and...enjoy each others company," Rachel finished lamely.

"Fun? _Fun!_ I'm barely holding on by a fucking thread, and you're thinking about _fun_!" Elizabeth couldn't help but yell.

Rachel gulped. Lizzie never swore. She had only heard the younger girl swear, maybe, twice and in both instances she had either been pissed out of her mind, or too upset to care. Right now, Rachel was willing to bet it was a healthy combination of the two.

"Oh, Lizzie..." she was at a loss for words. What could she possibly say to make this better?

"Don't. Just...don't. I just can't believe you," she ended on another shaky breath, the tears coming harder now. Why couldn't they just leave her alone? All she wanted was a little peace. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was, because why else would her supposed best friend throw her in a house with a man she didn't know. A man that scared that absolute crap out of her.

She shook her head. She really didn't know what do to. What hotels were in the area? None that she knew of, she'd have to go home. And that was something that she really wasn't looking forward to. Isn't that why she was at the Cena's beach house in the first place, to get away from everything? But, she couldn't just stay here...could she?

Elizabeth brought herself out of her thoughts because they clearly weren't doing anything to help her headache. Neither was the crying actually, but it seemed that that was out of her hands because it didn't seem like she was going to stop anytime soon. Flopping backwards on the bed, she flung her free arm over her eyes as if that would someone stop the onslaught of tears.

"Do you want me to come get you and take you home?" Rachel asked, disheartened by the fact that this whole thing had really come back to bite her in the ass.

"No," she answered between the sobs that seemed to be coming faster and faster.

Rachel's heart broke at the sound of her friends obvious distrust. She looked over at her husband, as if he could somehow offer her help. From the looks of things, though, he seemed to be deep in concentration with his own phone call. No doubt Mark was berating him and calling him any number of names. How she wished that Lizzie would just yell at her, she could certainly handle that a lot better than her tears. The tears tore at her heart, making her feel the lowest of the low. She chanced another question before she lost Lizzie to her misery completely, "So, you going to stay, then?"

"No..." she managed, "...yes...Oh...I don't know," she wailed in the phone.

It absolutely killed Rachel to hear this. She decided then that once her and John were both off the phone, she was going to yell at him for letting her put her friend through this.

Never mind the fact that it was mostly her idea anyway. A little detail like that was not going to stop her, because damnit, it was going to make her feel better.

Speaking of her husband, she looked over again in time to see him hang up his phone, gaze focused solely on her and she figured that it was best if she wrapped up her own conversation and gear herself up for the verbal ass kicking she was about to unleash.

"Listen, honey, I'm going to go. You need to calm down and try to get some rest. Just...stay there. See how things go. I'll call you later, alright?"

Lizzie sniffed into the phone. "Bye." And then she hung up.

Rachel looked sadly at the phone, knowing that was the best she was going to get for an agreement for the moment.

So," John started conversationally, "you know that Lizzie bashed her head into the floor?"

_What!

* * *

_

Elizabeth disconnected the phone and flipped it shut, throwing it on the floor, not caring where it landed. Curling in her side in the big bed, she buried her head in her arms and just cried, knowing that she needed to get it all out. Regardless of the fact that her headache, correction full on migraine, was intensifying with each breathe she took. Clearly, it was completely against any show of emotion at all.

As she lay there, she prayed to whatever god was listening, that she would just be left alone for the rest of the night. No more phone calls and just no more people in general.

Sadly, no deity took pity on her poor soul because no sooner had she gotten herself into a nice little pattern (sob, breathe, sob, breath, hiccup, sob...) was she interrupted by a deep voice coming from the doorway.

"Aw, hell."

* * *

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Hope you liked it. Sorry about any and all spelling errors. I'd go over it again, but to be honest, I'm just really lazy right now (bad Maeggy, bad!) Anywho, you all know what to do: REVIEW.

Please.

I'm not above begging. 'Cause I will. Beg, that is, and no one really wants to see that, it's not a pretty sight.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

When Mark went upstairs to give Elizabeth the Tylenol that he had found, the last thing he expected to see was a sobbing woman. Sure, he had expected her to retreat to her room to call her friend, but he figured that she should be mad, irate, and just plain pissed. To say that he didn't know what to do would have been a vast understatement. Hysterical females were not his forte, in fact they usually made him want to run in the other direction.

Not that the big, bad Undertaker would ever run from a problem...

But damn if he didn't want to.

Stepping cautiously into the room, lest he upset her anymore, he slowly made his way to the side of the bed that had the most room. He didn't want her to feel as though he was crowding her.

Mark bent down so that they were on a more even level and let out a small, "Hey."

She started, not having heard him come in. Shooting upright, she looked around until she spotted him beside her. Once the mini rush of adrenaline left her, the pain in her head came back with a vengeance. "Ow," she whimpered and put her head down, pushing it into the pillow, hoping that it would alleviate some of the pain, eliciting a few sniffles on the way.

It didn't.

He looked around, suddenly unsure of himself, then gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. "I, uh...got you some Tylenol," he said as he held his hand out, capsules in his palm, glass of water held in the other.

Turning her head to the side, Elizabeth glanced up at him through her hair. "Thanks," she said quietly, voice sore from her crying.

She sat up gently and hesitantly took the proffered medication, almost as if she were afraid that he would snatch it back at any second. Once she was sure that that wouldn't be the case, she plucked the two pills from his hand and reached again for the water.

Mark watched her as she went about downing the pills, taking in each of her actions. She was almost...skittish? She was nervous, that was for sure, but he couldn't figure out why. He didn't think that he had done anything to warrant such a response, other than startling her when he first came in. That wasn't _really _his fault, was it? As far as he knew, she had been expecting him. Shaking himself from this train of thought, lest he develop more anger to his so-called friend for his behavior, he watched as she slowly reached across the bed to the night table that was on the other side, and carefully setting the glass down.

"Thank you," she said again, louder this time, the water having soothed her throat.

Mark smiled, "You're welcome, darlin'."

Elizabeth looked around the room, trying for focus on something else, something that wasn't him. She didn't know him, really, and she was decidedly uncomfortable with him being in such close proximity.

"Hey, listen," he started, "I'm sorry about John and them." He paused for a second, but went on after she shot him a quick, confused look, "About the lying. He told me that you knew I was going to be here. I wouldn't have come if I had known the truth. I'm sorry."

She frowned, wanting to be mad at him, but not being able to what with him being as sincere as he was. He honestly felt bad that she had been lied to. It's not his fault that she was so uncomfortable, she argued with herself. Her friends should have known how she was going to react. Well, the _did _know, they just chose to ignore it anyways.

Sighing, she responded, "It's okay."

He shook his head in response, "No, it's not," he sighed, "Look, I'll go stay at a hotel because you're clearly not comfortable with me being her..." he trailed off, sounding guilty, and leaving it open to her.

"No, no, don't do that. They said you can stay here too, and...I'll be fine. Don't worry about me," she interjected a laugh in an attempt to make her voice light and carefree.

Mark inwardly smiled, her having done exactly what he wanted her to do. It felt good, he thought, to be in charge of the situation again. He had counted on her to feel bad if he went to leave and he knew she wouldn't stand for it. From the brief time he had spent in her company, he gleaned that she was genuinely nice person, if not chronically nervous. But, he'd fix that, he assured himself.

"I'll go to the hotel," she said quietly, slowly moving off the side of the bed, careful not to aggravate her headache, the Tylenol having alleviated the pain somewhat, but not nearly enough. Eyes narrowed against the light coming in from the window, she made her way over the door.

Too caught up in his self-congratulatory thoughts, it took a few seconds for her words to penetrate and when they did his eyes shot up, noticing she wasn't on the bed anymore. When he spotted her, she was nearly to the door, and moving slowly. He wasted no time springing off the bed and planting himself firmly in front of her. "_No_," he fairly shouted.

Elizabeth, well to say that she flinched would be an understatement, she jumped, feet nearly leaving the ground. Looking up at the huge man she slowly backed away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, voice rife with fear.

Instantly Mark started kicking himself. _Well, that was good_, he thought sarcastically. Frantically he tried thinking of a way to make the situation better, wanting to wipe the look of fear of her face. "Don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for," he said softly, trying to calm her. Holding his hands out in front of him, in what he hoped was a placating way he continued, "You don't have to go to a hotel. We're both adults, we're more than capable of staying. Please," he added, more as an afterthought than anything else.

She looked up at him uncertainly. Elizabeth didn't want to leave, in a backwards, depressing sort of way, she had been looking forward to staying here.

"Look," he started again, seeing her wavering, "how 'bout I go make somethin' for dinner and the two of us can talk this over. How's that sound?"

Swallowing quickly, she replied, "I, uh...well...um, I guess thats...okay. I am a little hungry." She nodded at the end, as if to assure herself more than him.

"Okay, okay. Good. So, what do you want to eat? I'm assuming that the idiot owner of this house has something lying around."

"Uh..."

"Actually," he interrupted, "maybe I should order some pizza. Can't cook worth a sh...er, damn," he corrected quickly, not wanting to swear in front of her. Some people were like that, he recalled and he didn't want to offend her in any way.

She took a deep breath. "Alright, but um...," she hesitated, "how about you make it Chinese instead?"

Mark laughed, a deep masculine laugh. A laugh, Elizabeth thought, that she liked very much. "Chinese it is."

* * *

Sorry for the delay! I apologize. BUT you can thank my beta: texjay, who has an amazing 'Taker fic. Go read it.

And now I ask you, my wonderful readers (of which there aren't many) to PLEASE review. I'm not above beggin, I swear. It's just...not a pretty sight. And I promise to update quicker. Classes aren't **that **important, are they?...Joking. But seriously, I'll try a lot harder to get them up in a more timely fashion.


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